


chiffon

by reddysteddy



Category: Doll Eye
Genre: Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Misgendering, dead naming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28242237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddysteddy/pseuds/reddysteddy
Summary: stranger called pastery into the living room for the first time in many months. she knew what that meant, especially after getting caught sneaking sewing needles into her bed.
Kudos: 5





	chiffon

pastery crossed her legs from where she sat on the chaise. charred yule logs crackled softly nearby, the fireplace more ash than flame. dizzyingly detailed ornaments covered the walls around her, yet she stared at her hands as if trying to free herself from cuffs. for a moment she was grateful that her gloves covered the paleness of her knuckles. 

her lips pressed into a thinner line than usual as the sound of high heeled boots on marble echoed off of the high ceiling and finely waxed floors. a long silhouette slunk across the hallway before her father appeared at the top of the stairs. mr. burns was slender, beautiful, highbrow- everything he strived for her to be. sleek garments covered him from brim to hem, just like what was draped over her own skinny form. the only visible difference between them was the color of their ties, his being the color of soot while hers was more of a deep violet. 

pastery's throat stung as the man approached the living room. the closer he traveled the more his steps started to sound like the crack of a whip. she could feel his eyes on her, yet remained still and fixated on her lap. 

"i got rather stressed", he stated matter of factly. "i discovered that my child had hurt himself". neither an apology nor accusation. 

"victor. look at me". 

pastery screwed her eyes shut and did not open them until stars dotted in her vision. the young woman hesitantly tilted her head up, and up, and up, craning her neck to gaze upon her father's face. there was never much to see, always hidden behind a large top hat and round lenses the size of fists. what little revealed itself was difficult to keep a mental image of. his lips were not full, but not quite skinny; skin neither pallid nor lively; slight wrinkles indicating either a mature young man or a well aged elder. 

it was difficult to really look at him rather than at one's own reflection peering back at them from the lenses of his glasses. they obscured his eyes while the headwear hid his brow. it was almost impossible to figure out what was truly unfolding in his head.

when pastery looked up all her eyes could see was her own barely contained terror.

"i only want to keep you safe", he said dryly. "it is my job as both a husband and a father to- to protect my family". he paused for a moment, letting a tense silence hang between them.

"the world took your mother despite her being nothing but kind to everyone she came into contact with. fate does not cherish goodness of acts nor intentions". his lip curled down, deepening the creases beside his jowls.

"i have lost one person i dearly care for. i want to prevent that from happening again". pastery flinched at the soft ruffling of silk against linen. she tensed as delicate fingertips gently patted the top of her head just above her brow. it would have felt alright, nice even, if not for every other time that hand had touched her. the sting of a slap still remained on her cheek, as well as a dozen other painful reminders of what her father was capable of.

"you will not be attending any sewing lessons from now on. all your clothes will be tailored outside of town. every needle i find on the grounds of this property will be melted and converted to an ash tray". he spoke hurriedly as if he were describing a most unpleasant series of events.

"is that understood?".

pastery parted her lips a sliver. her mouth formed words, not many, just enough to convey what he wanted to hear. no sound came out. she tried again to speak to no avail. her face burned, pearly tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"oh, victor", her father said grievously. his hand lowered to his side like a glass being knocked off of a table. he stepped away from her tensed form on the sofa before bringing his hands to his neck and straightening his tie. the next thing he said was so familiar that he could recite it out of sheer muscle memory.

"two minutes before bed. freshen up before entering your room. locks will be tested and fires extinguished. any sound will result in discipline".

he then turned on his heel and briskly disappeared back up the steps.

**Author's Note:**

> Might write a detailed account of her self harm later, we'll see.


End file.
